The Second War
by idiotatlarge
Summary: The Second War is raging. And while the Golden Trio are hunting down the last Horcruxes, how will the unrest affect the families they have left behind? What choices will these ordinary people have to make, in these less than ordinary times?
1. Chapter 1: Blackmoor Manor

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the Gordons. Rowling owns everything else, which would explain why she's so bloody rich, and I'm as poor as a church mouse.

Chaper 1: Blackmoor Manor

This is a story that happens during the year prior to Voldemort's final downfall, when Harry Potter dropped out of his seventh year to pursue Horcruxes, when the Death Eaters had taken over the ministry and many Muggle-borns were forced into hiding. The story revolves mainly around a pure-blooded family, the Gordons, and the part a perfectly ordinary group of people have to play in these less than ordinary times.

Since time out of mind, the Gordons had been the proud owners of Blackmoor Manor. Nobody could quite remember where the name came from, or whether the village had gotten its name from the Gordon dwelling, or vice-versa. Blackmoor Manor stood on top of a hill in Ballyshannon, overlooking the tiny village of Blackmoor, one of the last true wizarding settlements in Ireland. Muggles who passed through the town rarely remembered much of it after they left, which was a good thing because if they did, the village would have turned into a tourist attraction within days. The town itself lay on the coast, and had once even been dubbed "The Rainiest Town in Ireland", which was indeed saying something.

Blackmoor Manor had been built during the Middle Ages, and it was till then that the Gordons traced their family roots, all the way back to Lemuel Gordon, who himself was not a native of Ireland, but had built the Manor to get away from the Normans. The manor boasted undeground catacombs that held the remains of the ancient wizards that had passed in its halls, and spread many miles under the manor, and even rumours of a passage straight into a certain graveyard. This rumour had never been confirmed by the manor's residents, mostly because of an unfortunate event that left half the catacombs flooded. But every Gordon generation had tried to find this passage, usually dreaming of the endless possibilities of an outside tunnel, and usually these gave up around the time the letter from Hogwarts came, and the Gordon in question left home for school.

Every Gordon child since the Middle Ages had attended Hogwarts. Either the family never produced Squibs, or they were blotted out, which was a common practice for pure-blooded families in the old days.

It is believed, and confirmed by the portrait of Lemuel Gordon which had hung over the fireplace in the manor's entrance hall from the very beginning, that no Muggle has ever been inside the walls of Blackmoor Manor.

Today the Gordons' numbers had dwindled, mainly due to a habit of marrying late in life, or not marrying at all. Conor Gordon had been put to rest in the winter of 95, and his son, Sean Gordon, followed Gordon tradition by marrying a pureblood. The Gordons had two children: A daughter, Marion, and a son, William.

My story opens on a rainy summer day, on a typical Monday afternoon. Sean Gordon would usually spend the day out in the garden, wearing a large yellow raincoat carrying an impervious charm, and hexing the stubborn weeds. But not today. Blackmoor manor had once boasted a great number of servants and gardeners, but these days the Gordons did most of the work themselves, with the help of a rather skittish little house elf by the name of Beans. Sean Gordon had followed the family tradition of marrying late and retiring early, but his wife still worked full days at the ministry, so on days like these he would be alone watching the kids... and these ones really needed watching.

Marion and Will were not the most misbehaved children in the world, but they came strikingly close. Gordon children usually ran wild, strutting around Blackmoor Village as if they owned the place, terrorising local fishermen and pulling pranks on the locals. But they were Gordons, and usually they got away with it.

But today both Gordon children were behaving themselves immensely. Both were neatly dressed and standing in the entrance hall. Granted, Marion was sulking and Will was pulling faces at the portraits of all the ancient Gordon Patriarchs, but for them that was their best behaviour.

Even Sean Gordon was not wearing his usual yellow raincoat. He wore black billowing wizard robes and threw his children angry looks.

The small family stood and watched the fireplace under the portrait of Lemuel Gordon, who was glaring at Will and calling him a disgrace to the Gordon name. Then, suddenly, the fire turned green and a large man with blond hair fell out of the fireplace and onto the rug, where he dusted himself nonchalantly and looked around at the three Gordons.

"Good afternoon Mr. Runcorn," Will said on cue, under the stern glare of his father. "Welcome to Blackmoor Manor."

Runcorn gave a grunt and turned to Sean. As soon as he turned, Will pulled a face. Marion, who was four years older, elbowed him in the stomach and he desisted.

"Hello, Albert," Sean said, giving Runcorn a polite smile which didn't extend to his eyes. "I hope your trip was pleasant."

But Runcorn grunted again, possibly meaning that it was indeed unpleasant, or that he lost his ability to speak. Probably the former.

"Well, shall we get right on it?" Sean asked pleasantly. "It's right this way."

And finally, Runcorn did speak.

"Lead the way then, Gordon."

Marion and Will made to follow, but Runcorn shook his head.

"They don't have to come," he said.

"Oh, but they do," said Sean. "I find it important for children to see the inner workings of the our Ministry. It builds character and a social conscience. Why once a year I send them to work with their mother."

"Worst day of the year," Will said under his breath. Marion elbowed him again, but he only added: "For us and the Ministry."

Runcorn shrugged. He didn't seem to like this arrangement, but for some reason didn't feel like arguing. Maybe it had something to do with the piercing glare that Lemuel Gordon gave him.

Sean led the small party down a hallway and into the library. It was probably the largest room in the house, but it still didn't encourage the Gordon kids to read. It would be exaggerating to say that both Marion and Will had read more than three of these books between the two of them. But when you live in a big house with catacombs to explore and sealed off rooms to break into, a library like this doesn't hold your interest for long. All the walls but one were lined with bookshelves. In the center of the room stood a large glass globe, surrounded by a number of strange contraptions and magical equipment. In one corner, there was a table that held a small crystal orb, much like the ones you'd find in Trelawney's classroom. On the wall that wasn't lined with shelves hung a large tapestry, embroidered with the Gordon family crest, a Raven and an hourglass, and the words: "Time ravages everything."

Underneath these words spread the large and intricate family tree of the Gordons.

"When he said he was examining our family tree, I didn't know he meant it literally," said Will with a smirk.

"Don't be stupid Will," Marion whispered back.

Will looked at his dad, and the look on his face confirmed what both and he and Marion were thinking. Sean had brought Runcorn here to show him how old and respected the family was, and how stupid he was to try and find flaws with their tree. It seemed to have worked too, because Runcorn had forgotten all about the inspection, and was staring at the tree in awe.

Sean cleared his throat.

"Shall we sit down then?" he asked.

Marion and Will fell into the comfy chairs at once, and Sean sat opposite to them near the glass globe, leaving Runcorn the seat with the best view of the tapestry. He looked slightly flustered as he pulled out his papers and sat down.

"Well, you know Gordon, this is all protocol. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with your ancestors... Ministry business I'm sure you understand," he said nervously.

Under Marion's stubborn sulk, the tiniest shadow of a smirk emerged.

"Oh, I understand completely," said Gordon, although he knew perfectly well what this was about. The Gordons had been standing on the sidelines too long. The Ministry, or whoever was in charge these days, wanted to know where allegiance lay. In short, they wanted to know what side they were on, theirs, or Dumbledore's. Of course, now with Dumbledore dead, it was hard to tell who was in charge.

Sean Gordon gave nothing away. Neutrality had kept the family alive for centuries. The Gordons had not interfered in the last war, and they weren't about to interfere now.

Runcorn shuffled through his papers, glancing up at the family tree every once in a while.

"Well, everything seems to be in order on your side of the family... but... your wife," he said, not looking up at the tapestry, where Sean Gordon joined Maureen McKinnon with a gold embroidered line.

"They too, are purebloods," said Sean carelessly. "Surely, you have heard of the McKinnons."

He raised and eyebrow at Runcorn. So did Marion and Will.

"Of course I know they are purebloods," said Runcorn irritably. "But I know where the McKinnon's allegiance lies. Muggle lovers and blood traitors!"

Sean cleared his throat, but it was Marion who spoke.

"That is hardly the point," she said hotly. "Are you here to examine our family tree or to dig up indescretions of our ancestors and punish us for them?"

Runcorn stood up at this and put his papers away. He glared at the Gordons in turn.

"I'd be very careful if I were you, Sean Gordon," he said menacingly. "You have managed to ride the fence for years, never pledging allegiance to either side. The time will come when you will have to choose, and you would be wise to choose the right side..." he paused and took a few steps towards the exit. "And teach your brats some manners."


	2. Chapter 2: The West Wing

Chapter 2: The West Wing

"So, how was the inspection?" Maureen's mouth twitched into a smirk as she asked.

It was 8 o'clock, and the last of the Gordon family sat in the great dining hall for dinner.

"Your children are savages," said Sean, but his mouth also twitched into a smile. After all, Gordon children were all savages, it was family tradition. "They insulted a Minister of Magic employee in our very own home."

Will grinned, and Marion smirked behind her goblet of pumpkin juice. Maureen, however, did not laugh.

"Runcorn was it?" she asked seriously. "I wouldn't cross him. This is much more serious than I thought."

She looked at her children, who had stopped eating and were now staring at her, concerned.

"Runcorn didn't examine our family tree because it was his idea of a good time," she continued. "They want to know whether or not we're on the Ministry's side with all these new changes..."

"Are we?" Marion cut in.

"What new changes?" Will piped up.

Maureen looked up at her husband. She wasn't sure how much she wanted to tell her children, and how much she wanted to keep them protected from what was happening.

"The Ministry has started taking measures against Muggles and Muggleborns alike," she said firmly. "This is a strange step for the Ministry to take, and I suspect that they have only taken this liberty this year since Dumbledore's death in June means no one will oppose them. But some people do. And that is why they wanted to test the waters so to speak."

"The Gordons have never taken sides," Sean said.

"But..." Maureen started, but she never got to say her peace, because at that moment a small tawny owl fell through the open window and onto the dinner table.

Will, Marion, and Maureen jumped back instinctively. The owl hobbled over to the youngest of the Gordons and stuck out its leg.

Will took the letter that was tied to it, paid the delivery owl a knut, and then ripped open the envelope.

It read:

_Help!_

_I am hiding out in Blackmoor Village, under the bridge we hid under last summer when old Pete Coote was chasing us._

_Don't tell anyone, on pain of death!_

_Tom_

Will blinked. He looked up at his mother, but she wasn't paying attention to him. Delivery owls from Will's school friends were not uncommon this time of day, and now that they had gotten over the initial shock, they had gone back to their original discussion. Marion was very interested in knowing where they stood. The McKinnons had obviously not been of the same mind as the Gordons. Everyone knew of Maureen's cousin and his wife, who were murdered in their home by Death Eaters on Lord Voldemort's orders, or was it Lord Voldemort himself?

Will wasn't listening anymore. He jumped off his seat and made to run out the front door when his mother called him back.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked him sharply.

"Uh, I just remembered... gotta pick something up from the shop before they close... Coote promised to hold it for me until today."

It wasn't a very good lie, but Will said it very convincingly. Besides, his mother had no reason to stop him going now, so she nodded and within minutes he was tearing down the lane that led up to the manor, swinging around the corner and rushing up to the small bridge where Tom said he would be waiting. A million horrible thoughts were running through is mind. Had Tom committed some crime which set him on the run? He came from a family of muggles, so maybe he had broken the International Statute of Secrecy and performed magic in front of his parents. But surely, that didn't warrant an arrest... or did it?

He clutched a stitch in his side as he skidded to a halt. His heart was beating out of control and he was out of breath.

"Tom?" he said loudly.

"Shhh, not so loud. They'll hear you!"

Will turned around and surely enough, there stood Tom. He looked like he always did, slightly taller than Will, his blond hair cropped ridiculously short. He was wearing Muggle clothes, which made him stand out somewhat in Blackmoor, and in his right hand he clutched his wand.

And he looked so awfully tired.

Will grinned at the sight of his best friend, but Tom remained serious.

"How in Merlin's name did you get here all the way from Oxford?" Will asked.

"The Night Bus," Tom said. "Remember, your sister told us about the Night Bus, you stick out your wand and flag them down... Luckily I still had some wizarding money. It's all gone now. I didn't know where else to go... Will you help me, Will?"

"What?" Will looked completely shocked. "But why? What happened? Are your parents ok? Were you arrested?"

"I'm rather tired... I'll explain it all to you, but it's cold here. Can we go somewhere where we won't be overheard?"

"Overheard by who?" Will asked. "Ok, let's go to the sweet shop, it's warm, and it's Friday so they won't close before ten."

The two boys trotted up the path towards the sweet shop, arriving sopping wet and shivering. Once inside, they stood by a shelf of every flavoured beans and Tom told his story.

"About a month ago I got a letter from the Ministry of Magic, telling me that all Muggle-Borns had to register at the Ministry and undergo an investigation to see where they got their gift from. I can tell you, Will, that scared me something terrible. I knew for a fact no one in my family is magic at all. I'm the first one, ever, and it's just silly to ask where I got it from. So I knew they would brand me a thief and do something terrible, like send me to Azkaban or something, so I went on the run."

Will looked awestruck, and yet somewhat impressed.

"So I didn't know where to go, right," Tom continued. "And after a while I ran out of Muggle money and I knew there were wizards out looking for runaways like me, so I thought I'd come here. You're my best friend Will, and you're the only pureblooded wizard I know. I don't want to get your family into any trouble, but I really had nowhere to go."

Tom finished his story without looking at Will. He picked up a random box of beans and turned it over in his hand. When he finally did look up, Will's grinning face met his.

"Of course I'll help, Tom," he said. "There's no better place to hide than Blackmoor Manor. You can comb the place for years and still not find all the hidden rooms and secret passages. You won't be safer anywhere else, except perhaps Hogwarts!"

"Will... I... Thanks," Tom said, and Will knew from the look in his eye that he meant to say a lot more.

Will only grinned, and together they left the dry warm shop and headed out into the rain. Both boys were extremely quiet on the way up, and it wasn't until they reached the large iron gate that Will spoke.

"I know exactly where to hide you," he said, beaming as if this whole thing was just another elaborate game of his. "William Gordon," he said to the gate and it hesitated. "And friend."

The gate swung open and let them in.

"Remember when you were staying here last summer, and I told you the West Wing was off limits?" he asked. Tom nodded.

"You said you weren't able to get in, because your great-grandfather sealed the entrance," Tom said.

"Yeah," Will headed up to the front door and before he unlocked it pressed a finger to his lips. "The protraits will be asleep now, but take off your shoes or they'll hear us go in, I can't make a silencing charm nearly as good as Marion can. My parents are probably in the sitting room by now, so as long as we don't run into Marion, we're fine."

Tom nodded and swallowed. Together they tiptoed past the sleeping portraits of long dead Gordons and up to the West Tower, where James Gordon had met his death long before Will was born.

At the top of the rickety staircase stood a door, and on the top of this door was a face.

"Who dares tread the secrets of the West Wing?" the face on the door spoke. It had a high-pitched voice which gave Tom the shivers. Even Will looked a little chilled.

"William Gordon," he said confidently.

"And why would I let you in when I've kept generations of Gordons out, protecting the secrets of the West Wing!" said the face.

Will took a deep breath.

"Because,

I'm a dirty Gordon savage,

though I know my rightful place,

and if you don't open now,

I'll smash in your ugly face."

The door swung open.

"Wow," Tom muttered in disbelief.

Will laughed.

"We weaselled the rhyme out of my great-grandfather's protrait," he said. "He never did say how he figured it out."

"Cool," Tom said, following Will up a winding staircase to a room on top of the tower.

It looked like someone long ago had used this place as a laboratory. There were old peeling books and piles of parchment on a wooden table. There was a bare wooden bed in one corner, and tons of flasks and jars with strange specimen inside them. The shelves reminded Tom of that one time he'd been in Snape's office, doing detention.

"Did you hear," Will was saying. "Snape's the new headmaster. Bet the Slytherins are happy. I'll get you some bed covers and a pillow. I can sneak you some food up here we can sneak out into town during the day."

"As long as I don't get seen," Tom said hastily.

"Don't worry," Will said. "If anyone asks we'll just say you're my cousin, maternal side, because everyone knows my dad has no siblings."

"What will we do when school starts?" Tom said.

"We'll worry about that when the time comes," Will said wisely. "No point panicking before we need to. I'll be back in a bit. Wait here."

Tom nodded and Will hurried down the stairs and out into the hallway. He made his way down the kitchen first and got some leftovers from dinner. Then he passed by the linen closet and got a pillow and some bedsheets. He made a point of steering clear of the sitting room where his parents would be, and he almost made it too.

Halfway up the stairs, however, he ran into Marion.

"What're you up to, runt?" she asked suspiciously.

Will froze.


	3. Chapter 3: A Change of Heart

NOTE: Considering a rewrite and more dramatic way of having Tom discovered.

Chapter 3: A Ministry Visit

"You told her?" Tom looked horrified. He'd only been here thirty minutes and he was already caught. "I should never have come here. I should have stayed on the run. I should never have trusted--"

"Oh will you stop feeling sorry yourself," said an exasperated voice above his head. "Some of us are finding it hard to sleep of the sound of your self-pity."

Tom raised his head and found himself looking at the face of an angry red bearded man.

"I had to," Will protested, ignoring the portrait of James Gordon and looking guiltily at Tom. "She would have weaselled it out of me."

"Of course she would," the portrait agreed. "Now go have this conversation in the back yard."

"We can't, it's raining. And it's night," Will said to the portrait before turning back to Tom. "She caught me on the way up here."

"Night is it? You don't say," said the portrait sarcastically. "I guess that's why I was SLEEPING!"

Tom craned his neck to look at the portrait.

"He's really grumpy," he remarked.

"Of course he's grumpy," Marion said cheerfully, obviously enjoying this. "You'd be grumpy too if you died impaled on a spiky gate."

"Impaled on a gate?" Tom asked, now looking even more horrified than before.

"He fell fifty feet to his death. Jumped off the top tower here," Marion pointed to the window. It was a long drop down, right onto the spiky metal gates that surrounded Blackmoor Manor.

"You're joking right?" Tom said uncertainly.

"You think my death is a joke?" James Gordon said sternly. "I assure you it's no laughing matter."

"But... why?" Tom asked.

"Gordon madness," Will said casually. "It affects some Gordons when they get on in years."

"Probably a result of all the inbreeding," Marion said. "Too much magical blood in the veins, I suppose. Drives people mad."

Tom looked between them both, trying to assess whether or not they were telling the truth. They seemed to be quite serious. He just didn't see how they could talk to calmly about it. But then Will had always been interested in morbid stories.

"Anyway, you'd better be more careful from now on," Marion said. "And don't send any owls from up here, Dad will notice. If you want to send a message get Will to do it."

"You mean you're not going to turn me in?" Tom asked.

Marion looked a little puzzled, but Will just laughed.

"Of course not, silly," he said. "No Gordon tells. It's the family code."

"That's right," said the portrait. "And you'd do better to stick to the code while you're here young man. Don't tell, and don't yell. Especially not after ten. The elders are asleep."

Tom grinned. He felt as if a weight had just been lifted off his shoulders.

Tom spent a week at Blackmoor Manor without being discovered. Marion and Will smuggled him outside on a couple of occasions, and the house elf, Beans, had been sworn to secrecy after catching them breaking into the kitchen. Despite the fear of being caught, and the fact that he missed his family terribly, Tom soon found himself enjoying this adventure.

But everything came crashing down the day the letters came from Hogwarts'. There's really no reason a father of two should get three letters from the Headmaster and not get suspicious, especially when the third letter is addressed to a Thomas L. Howard of 78 Seafeld Place.

Will, however, just shrugged and kept on eating his pie.

"Dunno, must be some mistake," he said.

"A mistake?" Sean repeated, still looking quizzically at the letter. "When has Hogwart's ever made a mistake?"

Will shrugged again.

"Is this boy a classmate of yours?" Sean asked.

"Tom Howard?" Will asked. "Yeah he's in my class."

"In your house?" Sean continued the line of questioning. Gordon parents were suspicious enough of their kids to know when something was going on, no matter how good liars Gordon children were.

"Yeah," Will said.

"So you're friends?" Sean asked.

Will shrugged.

"A little," he said.

"Sean, that's the boy who was here last summer," Maureen said, taking the letter out of Sean's hand and reading it through. "Isn't he?" she looked at Will.

Marion looked pointedly away as the parents interrogated her brother.

"Will, this boy disappeared a week ago," his mother said. "He failed to register under the Muggle-born registration act and hasn't been seen since."

Will looked up from his pie, feigning an innocent look. The truth was he was horrified.

"Will," his mother insisted. "Do you know where he is?"

"No, I don't," Will lied.

Maureen turned to her daughter next, but Marion shook her head quickly.

"Don't look at me, I know nothing of this."

Most children would have felt a twinge of guilt, to say the least, when lying to their parents like that. Will and Marion did it naturally.

And they would have gotten away with it too, if it hadn't been for the house elf.

And so it was that Sean and Maureen Gordon stood in the forbidden West Wing for the first time in their lives and looked at the twelve year old fugitive in their house.

"Dad," Will started, but Sean silenced him with a stern look.

"Hiding outlaws in my laboratory," said the portrait of James Gordon. "Despicable!"

"Grandfather, please," Sean said to the portrait. "We will deal with Tom."

He sat down on the bed next to the terrified boy, who was determined not to cry but wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"I'm sorry Mister Gordon," he said.

"Don't be sorry Tom," Will said. "It's not your fault the ministry has gone mad."

"Will, be quiet," his mother silenced him.

Sean sighed.

"Look," he said. "It's not as bad as you think. I have to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow tomorrow, I'll take you to the ministry afterwards. You can register as a Muggle-Born, and then next week you'll all be on the train to Hogwart's. It's no big deal."

"Dad, you can't do that to him," Will protested. "You don't know what the ministry does to them."

"Stop being melodramatic, Will," Sean said. "It's just protocol. I'll take Tom there tomorrow and everything will be fine."

"You don't know that!" Will said. "I heard half of those who register don't return."

"That's just rumours Will," Maureen assured him.

"I heard they take their wands away," Marion said, breaking her silence for the first time. However, the effect this statement had on those in the room was indescribable. Marion might as well have suggested they were cutting off their heads. Tom clutched his wand to his chest and shook his head, almost unable to hold back the tears any longer.

"Don't be ridiculous," Sean said, but Maureen's silence seemed to confirm the kids' fears. "They're still wizards. Now go to bed, both of you. Tom, you can stay in Will's room tonight. No point hiding up here anymore."

"Dad, don't do it," Marion said. Will looked at him pleadingly, but Sean stood up and shook his head.

"To bed, all of you," he said.

The walk through Diagon alley seemed endless. Tom's right hand clutched his wand protectively, and his left hand clutched Sean's as they headed to Gringott's, trying not to lose each other in the crowded street.

_It'll be ok, _Tom kept telling himself. _It won't be so bad to go back to living as a muggle. Mum and Dad are muggles. They'll accept me._

But even as he told himself that, his mind kept reminding him of all the things he'd miss about being a wizard. Flying a broom, exploring Hogwart's, getting caught by the Gamekeeper while trying to sneak into the Forbidden Forest. He clutched his wand tighter and sniffed.

"Just Gringott's stil and we'll be able to apparate straight to the Ministry," Sean said, pulling Tom out of his thoughts and back into the streets of Diagon Alley. "What the hell is going on here..."

He had to stop, and Tom almost walked into him because he didn't stop on time. A woman in shabby wizard's robes walked up to him and grabbed the hem of his robes.

"Please sir," she said, holding on to his sleeve so that he couldn't back away. "I'm a witch, really. Just give me a wand and I'll prove it."

"Uh, I'm sure you are," Sean said. "But I have to be somewhere."

He tried to shake her off, but another one, a boy of about sixteen with a dirty face, joined her.

"Help me, I need to get to my vault," he said. "They won't let us in."

Just then a tall dark haired man intervened. He waved his wand and zapped the two swarming around Sean, and they ran off.

"Bloody wandless," he said. "You're Gordon. Your wife works in my department."

Sean didn't recognise the man, but he took his word for it.

"Thanks," he said. "What was that all about?"

"The wandless," said the dark man. "They insist they're wizards. Load of bollocks. A bunch of thieves and charlatans more likely. The Ministry threw them out, but they keep coming back, harrassing the real wizards. That your boy... William was it?"

He looked down at Tom. Sean looked over his shoulder in horror at the wandless as they latched on to some shoppers outside Ollivander's. Apparently they weren't allowed in there either.

"What?" he turned back to the man, who was looking at him expectantly.

"So you were going into the bank?" he asked.

"Yes, no," Sean said hastily. "I mean yes, this is Will, and no we were just on our way home. Thanks again."

He turned around, grabbed Tom tightly, and apparated with him straight back to Blackmoor.


End file.
